American Pimp

Down sun setting

'84 4 door Caddy

roof to the floor

black and red mama bought for ya

You're just a silly little wanna be punk a*s

backdoor truck store cowboy crusin' crack

Storytellin' lady smackin' fake pimp a*s pinky ring

Stealin' things your mama bought for ya

You wanna be suburban a*s kingpin gold grill

Livin' for the thrill you're nothin' but a G thing

You're talkin' so much it's makin' me sick

Yo what's up with these American pimps

Mackin' in your ride ladies lookin' so fine

Ya see she got no class on the floor suckin' glass

Real fast smokin' more I'm so sorry you're a w***e

Keep ya steppin' what a pity what's a pretty f**ked up scene

Police statement now you're sleepin' in a cell

It's a real living hell your punkie he's a junkie

Shootin' d**e in his veins you're wheelin' and dealin' and feelin' the pain

You're a joke you're broke you're up in smoke now look at you

You're talkin' so much it's makin' me sick

Yo what's up with these American pimps

An Elvis motherf**ker wifebeater and gold chains

Yo what's up with these American pimps

Now you're claimin' you ain't flamin' but you're gamin' like you hip hop

Flip flop monkey boy or the big top

Big pimpin' in a fagazine

but you're fake like plastic cellophane limosuines

Pitiful don't mean digital unedible lifestyle not credible

It's the unforgettable American ones who live so fast and die so young

You're talkin' so much it's makin' me sick

Man what's up with these American pimps

Candy hair grease black d**kies and Gucci shades

Yo what's up with these American pimps

Yo what's up with these American pimps